


Golden daisies

by whisperingtales



Category: The Last Hours Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: A little angst, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, cordelia looks after him, idk that's basically it, james is ill, jordelia fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-15 06:22:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29929230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whisperingtales/pseuds/whisperingtales
Summary: Jordelia request based off the prompt “Please don’t say that about yourself. Please don’t believe that. You’re so much more than that. You’re so…”
Relationships: Cordelia Carstairs/James Herondale
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	Golden daisies

James lay reclined on his bed in his and Cordelia’s house in Curzon Street. Sitting beside him, Cordelia placed a hand on his forehead and smoothed back his black curls.

“Your fever is down at last,” she sighed. She’d been taking care of James, who had fallen ill on his last venture to the shadow realm.

“You need not worry about me, Daisy. I tell you, I’m fine.”

“I know you are.”

She’d spent days by his side, playing chess, card games, and reading to him before the fire. Will and Tessa had worried enough to insist he stayed at the Institute, but seeing James’ exhausted semblance, and his intent on refusing, Cordelia stepped in to reassure them she’d look after him just like she had when James had contracted scalding fever all those years ago. And take care of him she did. She even learnt how to make those biscuits Risa made, that James liked so much, which he was very grateful for.

Cordelia reached to adjust James’ crimson pillows, getting close enough that her mass of red hair fell over his shoulder. He seemed to take a moment to inhale the sweet scent and murmur to himself.

“Daisy, quit fussing, I’m not dying of pneumonia. You can rest.” He drew her hand from her face and pressed a kiss to the back of it.

“I’ll rest when you can get out of bed without fainting. I’ll go fetch some tea. Don’t move.”

As she retrieved a searing teapot, James looked around the room he now knew like the palm of his hand, studying the ochre brown shelves, the red carpet and tapestries. He grew bored of it and grabbed the copy of ‘Layla and Majnun’ that rested on his nightstand, examining it. Cordelia had taught him a few words in Persian but he still hadn’t gotten the hang of it.

When Cordelia returned, she offered James a cup of sugary tea and sat by a near chair. Playing with the folds of her skirt, she said, perhaps a bit absentminded, “I remember when we were to read the book together. I went up to the Institute and found your wrist glittering with Grace’s bracelet yet again.”

James’ expression darkened. “Daisy, I’m sorry. I was a fool.”

“It’s no good to duel in the past, *joon delam.”

“Don’t call me that.”

Hurt flashed on Cordelia’s eyes. 

He clenched and unclenched his jaw and cleared his throat. “I’m not worthy of the title. I’ve spent the past years in deception of my own feelings. I’ve been captive in Grace, Tatiana, and Belial’s claws. I’ve had moments of clarity where all I could think of was you. But then the world went dark, the colours faded, the lights turned down. I’m nothing but a puppet, Daisy. I’m a toy that’s been too taunted with that now is broken.”

“Please don’t say that about yourself. Please don’t believe that. You’re so much more than that. You’re so—”

James didn’t let her finish. “No amount of love will redeem my folly, no matter how hard you, or Lucie, or Matthew, or my parents try. I have let myself fall into a web of lies and let myself believe each of them. No one but me is to blame for my naiveness, no one but me to blame for the tragedy that obliterated the city and its people. My people.”

“James, look at me,” she said in the softest tone. “You are not a broken trinket. You’re not at fault for anything that happened. All the death and destruction? Belial and Tatiana did that. You were another victim. James, you are one of the greatest shadowhunters I’ve ever met. You’ve overcome so much more than even most adults could even pride themselves for. You’ve fought by our side, stood by what was right; and even if you lost yourself in the process, you’re not alone. I’m here, James. I’m here, and I’ll never leave you. Not after a year, not after ten. I love you and I will love you until my tether to Cortana and my bond with Lucie are shattered. I will love you until my hands get cold and my last breath is all I’m counting on. Until all that is left of our marriage runes is nothing but shadows.”

Her throat bobbed. She’d just poured her heart open, and she didn’t know whether to die of shame, relief, or horror. “James, please say something.”

James’ eyes were glinting. The kind of shimmer that only his otherworldly golden eyes could have. And he was staring at her with an immense intensity that made Cordelia shudder. No one had ever looked at her like that. Like she was the only flower in an empty field. 

He didn’t utter a word as he cupped her cheek and caressed her skin with his thumb. Slowly, so painfully slowly, he shortened the distance between them and joined his lips with hers. They clicked like chess pieces on a board, like dance partners in a walts; every part of them fitting together.

James moved his hand to her neck and pulled her closer, deepening the kiss. 

Cordelia drew away suddenly.

“Don’t do this to me. Not after I told you I loved you.”

“Do what?”

“James, our marriage is a facade, you don’t have feelings for me. You confirmed it yourself the day you proposed to me.”

“Daisy, I was under the spell of an enchanted bracelet, you can’t blame me for my confusion.”

“Your confusion?” Cordelia’s eyes darted from his own to the curve of his mouth, back to his frown, and then to his dimple. He was chuckling, and she hadn’t a clue as of why.

“During my marriage to you, I’ve had the privilege of drowning myself in wisdom of the mind but also the heart.”

“And what did you learn?”

He gave her an easy smile. “That home is where the heart is.”

“And you’ll have that,” she said with a pained expression. “With Grace, someday. I promise you will.”

“No, Daisy. i don’t think you understand what I’m trying to tell you.”

“Which is what, exactly?”

“I love you, Daisy. I have for years. I just was never bright enough to notice.”

“You can’t possibly love me, you said—”

“I was blinded. I fell in love with you when we were thirteen. I was sick and you read to me. You thought I’d been, but I hadn’t. I listened to every word, delighted in the sound of your voice. You were no more than my little sister’s best friend. But you sat by my side, and read to me. And I don’t know if it was some sort of feverish dream but I believe I also heard some singing?”

Cordelia’s cheeks turned scarlet. “It was a Persian lullaby my mother used to sing to me and Alastair when we were little. I thought maybe it would soothe your nightmares.”

“Living with you made me fall in love all over again. Being bested at chess games, exchanging thoughts every night and every morning, the dances, our reading sessions. Being this close to you made me realize how much I would miss being in your company after the year was over.”

Cordelia’s chest rose and fell agitatedly. “What are you saying?”

“I am saying that I don’t want to get divorced. I want to be with you for the rest of my life. I wanna sit by the fire quoting our favourite passages, share breakfast, match our wits at games. I want to have children with you, grow old. I won’t stop loving you in this life nor the next. My love for thee is eternal.”

James brushed Cordelia’s tears away and drew her to him.

“I love you, James Herondale. *Mae fy nghariad atat yn dragwyddol.”

**Author's Note:**

> *dearest of my heart in Farsi.
> 
> *my love for you is eternal in Welsh.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed!


End file.
